Eric Olafson, Neoviking 02b
Chapter 2: Ragnarsson Rock part 2 Continuation... “What happened?” I gasped. “They say he fell on the steep stairs to the Sub Den and broke his neck. Just as the Old Olafson did, and by doing so making your father the clan Chief. And these stairs are in good repair.” I heard father’s strong voice. “Throw him to the fishes. He dared to speak against me on my table and now he robbed me of the chance to teach him a lesson.” He made a vulgar gesture. “Let Hel take care of him now. There is much work to do so get to it!” Even from where I was standing I could see his smug grin and the triumphant glare of his eyes. I was only twelve but I was convinced Kveldulf did not die of an accident. However I heeded Greifen’s advice and slipped into the under crofts and hid in the deep old basements for the rest of the day. Death was not done, and Hel still had her hand over the burg because the very next day, Geirhild one of the Free woman working in the Tanneries threw herself of the Northern ramparts, where the Duro-crete and rock walls of our burg clinged to the very edge of the sheer cliffs. Nobody told me why she did it, Midril said this was something I should better not know, yet I heard one of the kitchen helpers whisper that she saw Harkun, my fathers man servant with her on that wall, just before she jumped. When they carried her broken body in, through the gate, I decided to to the same. I would throw myself over the wall. It was quick and no Union Doctor could do anything. Even though our teacher said they could bring even the dead back to live, strict laws born after the old Clone Revolts prohibited that. I had enough of the beatings and the humiliation. It was fast and I would be in the land of Hel where mother was and perhaps she even waited for me. Long after midnight when everyone but the gate man was asleep. I rushed across the yard and climbed the solid Duro-Crete steps and pulled myself up between the battlements. Nilfeheim had no moons like I learned other worlds had, but we had a beautiful star filled sky. The stars above me twinkled and Earthers had called them the Pleiades, of which Solken our own star was one. This region of space was more commonly known as the Xunx reach. There weren’t any Xunx left today, and the next day would come with one Neo Viking less. Almost 220 meters below, dark waves smashed into the rugged teeth like rocks and turned into white foaming surf. “Thor and Odin you have forsaken me, punished my mother and cursed me with a father who hates me more than anything in the world. I know you hate cowards but I am not strong enough. He had killed the Nubhir puppies Greifen had given to me this morning. He had stomped the little animals to a gory pulp and made me clean it up. He promised he would do the same to me as soon as I turn sixteen. What can I do against that?” There was of course no answer, the Gods were to busy drinking and celebrating to notice the perils of a Viking boy. I jumped, but I did not fall! A leather clad hand held me by the collar and pulled me back. A shadowy figure, a hooded cloak around his shape said to me. “Who will avenge your mother if you kill yourself? Yo must endure and grow and learn to fight and then kill Isegrim and cleanse this burg from all its filth.” “Who are you?” “It matters not, Eric. I cannot reveal myself to you for now, but you will come to me now every night. Find me in the lowest basement, where the old hidden passage way is and I will teach you the way of the sword and how to fight.” The shadowy figure let me go stepped back without making a sound melting into the truly black shadows of the battlements. I stepped forward, still at the edge of my nerves, my mind still reeling from the death decision I had made only moments ago, yet there was no one. Did I just dream? The very next night I sneaked down the past the Under croft and storage basements. Deep into the rough hewn narrow and completely dark passage way that was chiseled out of the rock during the first clan wars almost a thousand years in the past. It was never completed and ended in a little cavern like room, no one but me would come down here during the day, and certainly no one would be here at this hour. I was certain I had imagined it and was just a coward to afraid to end it. Yet as I reached the bottom and the dead end, a voice said. “I will not talk about anything except to teach you how to fight. You will never ask me any questions. If you do I won’t come back., do you want me to teach you?” “Yes!” A grinding sandy sound as if stone was moved over stone occurred and I could feel a soft breeze of wind. Something pulled on my mangy Fangsnapper fur cape and then lights came on. Artificial Lumi plates bolted or glued to a rough ceiling. The cavern room was spacious and there were swords, and blaster weapons in racks on the walls. From the looks of it, not moved or touched in a thousand years., there was a bench, a table made of Dura plast of all things and a stack of similar old looking crates at one end. The man in the black hooded cape seemed to have some sort of mask underneath it, as I could see nothing but black underneath. The man was at least as tall as my father, but had the muscles of a peak athlete underneath black leather and fabric. His voice sounded as if coming through an artificial filter of sort and did not sound like anyone I knew. He made a gesture across the room. “Yes Eric, the Ragnarssons were among the most vicious pirates, back in the days and this is what is left from their spoils. This room and that past, forgotten but by a few. Now strip your upper body free of garments and take that Bokken over there,” “I take what?” “This is how a wooden Training sword is called at some other corners of the Universe. No questions, just take it!” I simply called him teacher and from that night on, he trained with me every night for at least 4 hours. When I was done I was so tired, I had no energy left to dream ... Some of the things he made me were strange and odd. Something he called push ups and gymnastics. I didn’t really think it had anything to do with fighting but I did it anyway. Of course I wondered who he was, and I figured he was someone like the old Kveldulf. A clan warrior of the Ragnarsson side, but he had an odd way of speaking. He did speak the standard union like we all did, but on Nilfeheim we still used many of the old worlds and when speaking on any official business we made sure we talked the “old” way. We pronounced the ‘r’ much stronger and had more ‘n’ sounds. I knew all this from our Union school teacher who always tried to make us speak the proper Union way. My mysterious teacher however spoke just like our Union teacher, the proper Union Lingu and while he knew a lot about viking ways and words. He never really used any of the old words. Almost a year had passed since the Fangsnapper had torn through our kitchen when I climbed down to the Pirate Den he made me fight him with a real broad sword for almost an hour. He then stepped back and said. “You have learned much and you are turning 13 soon. I wish I could teach you more but I must leave and I am not sure when I will be back. However I want you to continue to practice keep up the exercises as well.” “I was told never to ask questions and even though they burn on my lips I have not, but I am far from the warrior I need to be to face my father.” “I promised someone who loves you very much to teach you the craft of war and skills of fighting but I am not of this world and I must return to mine. I made a promise to someone else as well and this someone needs my help. No worries Eric, you have opened your eyes to the way of the sword and I am certain you will find others to teach you. We will meet again, Eric and then I tell you who I am.” I took my hand squeezed it and then without another word left. I rushed after him through the secret rock wall door but the narrow stairwell was empty. While I knew he would not be there, I returned the next night. He did not come. Six weeks had passed since my mysterious teacher had left. Greifen sat in the Kitchen nursing a tankard of warmed ale with a generous helping of Midril’s secret herbs and spices she gave to those who got the cold and judging by the bright red nose and the numb voice of Greifen he was very sick or perhaps had a tankard too much. I was there as well sitting in a corner scrubbing the big kettle, because it was Wednesday and Midril would make Fin Stew. Greifen snorted like a pregnant Fangsnapper into a huge kerchief and with a suffering expression and Nubhir puppy eyes stared at Midril. “Only I catch a cold in Shortsummer. Those Northern winds are really stubborn this season, seems the Frost-giants are not giving up as easily this Shortsummer.” She stemmed her left arm into her wide hips and shook her ever present wooden spoon at Greifen. “It’s not the weather that made you sick. You were drinking with the Peerson fishers till the wee hours and one of them had the cold and infected you.” “Oh I am sure it was the wind. Now I am sure I’d feel better soon with another helping of your good herbs with a bit of that good Ale.” Midril snickered. “Alright I fix you up.” He got another tankard and took a deep drought. His face turned as if he had bitten into a rotten fish, but his red nose turned color almost instantly back to normal. “What in Loki’s name was that? This was no ale ... no herbs.” “It was hot water with a two Anti cold pills and a Tox Neutralizer floating in it. Traditional herbs won’t cure a cold. The Meds from the Union Clinic however will.” He looked sober, bright alert, completely flabbergasted and a tad angry. “That was a rotten thing to do Midril. I was just about in the prefect zone and now I got to start again.” “Go peel the seaweed stems and I get you another tankard.” She plopped a big tray with thick ten inch long seaweed stems before him and handed him a peeler. Once the tough outer skin was removed the soft mushy inside could be cooked and squished. He immediately started and then pointed the peeler at me. “It’s a shame how our Old Sire treats his first born!” Greifen gave her a thankful nod as she put a tankard of ale next to the tray.”He ought to get the hide of the Fangsnapper he killed and be celebrated for his first kill. I don’t know many full grown men who would willingly go against one with just a kitchen knife.” She stopped cutting Tyranno meat into cubes, wiped her bloody hands on her apron,. Her left hand was pasty white compared to her other; the pigmentation of her new arm would eventually adjust to the rest of her body; and she said.” There are many things going on in this Burg that never happened while our Old Sire was still here, but unless you want to challenge him for clan chief and fight him you better keep quiet and drink your ale.” “I would fight him! There are more than one who would, but he wields that wicket steel cable and you don’t even get a chance! And those who speak out have accidents. You know the final kind.” “That and the fact that he is stronger than you and humongous as all the Olafsons.” I pushed the clean kettle to its spot and left the kitchen. It was better I didn’t hear those things. I knew they would soon start talking about the Fair Lady as they called my mother and I would cry and that could not be, a boy my age was not allowed to cry. To make sure no one would catch me idle and give me another, usually bad chore. I went outside beyond the walls Except for the small leveled gravel area right outside the gate where floaters could lands; the rest of the island consisted of sheer cliffs and titanic ragged boulders, but when you took the time to climb down the south side right, past Olle’s Tooth (a particular tall and rugged rock said to resemble the rotten tooth of one of my forefathers.) There was a small, perhaps seventy meter deep and 200 meters wide pebble beach known by the clan as Sigrid’s Secret. It was hidden from sight on each side by tall cliffs and an overhang from above. It was one of my favorite spots. Legend had it that the first Ragnarsson family landed here claiming this rock as theirs only a week after the Settlers Ark had landed. Sten Ragnarsson was said to have killed himself here about five hundred years ago and that one still could hear his screaming as he lamented his dishonorable death. Ingibjorg Ragnarsson his daughter supposedly buried a tremendous treasure here, of course no one believed that, where on Nilfeheim would a woman gain a treasure? All her possessions were her dowry given to her husband. She too was said to haunt these cliffs as her spirit was searching for whatever baubles she had lost. As isolated as Nilfeheim tried to remain from the rest of the Union, we were part of a technological advanced culture, yet many Neo Vikings believed in the supernatural and the stories of the gods and tales of haunted places and ghosts where never far from their mind and lips. Midril was one of those and she claimed to have seen ghosts before. When I was younger I believed her when she told about the one legged Ragnarsson who supposedly haunted the storage cellar, but now I believed it was a mere tale to keep me and the other kids from the pickled fish barrel. This was my second Shortsummer, the period our planet was on the short end of its elliptical orbit around our sun and it would last three standard years. The other period we called Longnight and it lasted for seven standard years. During Longnight the sun would barley appear across the horizon and temperatures plunged to minus sixty degrees. Now during Shortsummer temperatures could climb all the way to 15 degrees and most of the planet wide ocean was ice free. I sat down and watched Toe Pincer crabs as they scurried over the dark pebbles, enjoyed the wind and the weather. I would have loved to go for a dive but I did not bring my wet suit or fins. I didn’t want to go back and all across the yard to get it. However there was a good chance I would run into Bjorgolf the new Yard Master who tended the subs and hunting gear of the clan. That fat bastard was a favorite of my father and enjoyed giving me lots to do so he did not have to do it. Father had given him explicit permission to beat me anytime my work was not as expected. He always found something wrong and a reason to use his heavy leather belt to trash me. Even though my father had moved the Olafson clan, to this burg. The rock was still known as Ragnarsson Rock and had been the traditional home of the Ragnarsson clan ever since Nilfeheim was settled by Terran Colonists. Now during Shortsummer and on a clear day I could see the Oseberg Island from my tower window to the south. It was where the Oseberg’s had their burg, but down here all I saw as the churning ocean waves. The Oseberg’s were the mortal enemies of the Ragnarsson clan and until about 500 years ago there was open war between these clans. It was still forbidden to even speak the name Oseberg within these walls. Many of the older clans, including my father lamented the fact that piracy, clan wars and the raid of other burgs was no longer permitted. He often claimed that he would rather take the wealth of another clan by ax and sword than by fishing, working and marriage, as he put it.” That this was only empty bravado was apparent even to me, as he did not openly challenge the Elhir Chief. Using a whip in a Challenge was only permitted if the opponent would also choose it, going against a man as wild and strong as him and a master of sword and ax was something completely different than beating unarmed servants. I was watching two crabs fighting over a dead fish. A Silver Flicker Fish, it probably went to close to the surge as the waves broke against the cliffs and got smacked to hard against the rock. Almost to late did I hear footsteps in the gravel. More out of instinct I ducked, still something hit me pretty hard on the head. I jumped back and turned to see Lothar my half-brother brandishing a wooden practice sword. He was only ten but had considerable bulk and was almost my equal in terms of strength and body size. His eyes sparkled with delight as he laughed and screamed. “I made you bleed I will tell father!” He played with his sword making its tip circle before my face.” I could also kill you right now and there is nothing you can do. Raise your hand against me and I tell father and he will break you.” “I had it with you and your arrogance! I am sick and tired of your petty games. this is Ragnarsson Rock and you and that father of ours is here by the grace of my grandfather and my mother!” I stepped inside his reach, twisted his wrist with my left and smacked my fist as hard as I could right into his blabbering smiling mouth.” I could feel something break as my fist connected, he was flung back; stumbled and fell. For some reason time seemed to slow down as I watched him fall. The back of his head hitting one of the bigger rocks. He didn’t move or make any sound as he laid there and I was certain I had killed him! I spat out and said. “Go tell that to father!” The realization of what I had done hit me the very same moment. Fear and guilt made it impossible to even think one coherent thought. He stirred and opened his eyes, he was not dead. A voice in me urged me to finish him off, the crabs would make short work of his remains and the surge take whatever was left. He would simply be missing and one problem of my life would be solved, he deserved to die! He was the son of a woman who replaced my mother! The woman was the reason my father had killed her in the first place. I was the rightful heir not he!Out of the corner of my eye I noticed movement and as I turned to see who else was here at this usually deserted beach. I saw a woman standing there, her feet still in the water. At the very first moment I believed it to be Hel the goddess of the nether worlds who came to take Lothar. But as I looked closer I was certain no goddess would wear a modern wet suit or carry a spear gun, not a Tyranno Slayer, but from the looks of it a very modern Off-World type. Even though her suit and the gun seemed Off Word she was clearly Neo Viking. She had no breathing gear and the neck of the wet suit was modified to keep her gills open. She was maybe ten meters away and the water lapped against her knees. She had the gun aimed at me and she yelled. “I can’t let you live Eric as you you saw me. I am sorry I did not know you would be here. I came for him and I see you started already what I came here to do!” Her voice was clear and female and somehow familiar, yet because of her goggles and the tight neoprene hood covering her face up to the nose. I could not fathom how this woman I had never seen knew me and why she wanted to kill my brother. How could a ten year old have such an enemy? What clan would use female swimmers anyway? “Who are you?” “I am Vengeance! Revenge is not the domain of men alone!” From above I heard Harkun my father’s man servant yelling and raising alarm! The female fired her gun! I threw myself to the ground at the same time, the spear hit me not into the chest but the shoulder as I was certain she had aimed for my heart. As I fell I found it strange how little the harpoon hurt. Then I heard the explosive puff as the harpoons explosive head went off. I saw her fire the second barrel up the cliffs perhaps at Harkun and then disappear beneath the waves and through the red haze of pain that was taking over everything I felt relieved. I would die now I was certain and I would see mother again! This time I did not loose consciousness until they put me on a stretcher and put me in stasis. I was quite disappointed as I saw the face of the Union doctor again, instead of that of my mother. I groaned. “You again!” The man wore a light green uniform with the Union Medical Logo on his chest. He had no hair on his head, except for a set of bushy eyebrows. A light floated above his eyes and shined directly into mine. His nose was rather large for his elongated face I found, especially as I saw it so close up. “Yes, yes. Eric you are among the living and you are soon able to leave. It seems you and me are going to be good friends. I know you inside in a matter of speech of course. In your case I might even put a few spare parts on the shelf.” He squeezed my shoulder, with a smiling yet somehow sad face. “I wish I could do more than just repair the physical damage but address the psychological one and change your lot. As advanced we are as a society, we are severely flawed in how we deal with such terrible crime and rights violations. As long as this cursed exception remains law, I can do so, little.” Most of his sermon was simply beyond me. “What happened?” Was all that came to my mind. “You were shot by a harpoon with explosive tip. Luckily for you that thing was meant to be fired under water and so it went straight through you and that explosive tip, went off behind you. Did still considerable damage. Had it exploded inside there would have been nothing for me to do.” I tried to sit up, but he pushed me back. “I said soon, Eric. Not now!” Then I saw father standing not far and he pointed his massive finger at me. “You are only alive because I need you to be alive until your Grandfather dies. The fact that you protected your brother means nothing!” This part of his speech as expected but why he didn’t ask me anything was something that made me wonder. The doctor turned to him. “You are a criminal, Mr. Olafson, of the worst kind and I will keep report all this and the day will come, you will answer for your crimes Mr. Olafson.” “Be silent, Off World Slave, this is Nilfeheim. Your presence is no longer required!” “I came for him, not...” Father hammered his coiled whip onto the GalNet terminal and mashed it. The Avatar presence of the Doctor blinked out of existence. Father grabbed me by the throat and lifted me of the gurney and hit me with his other fist into the stomach. “Again you failed me, instead of looking at the bodies of the Elhir assassins, I am looking at that scum stain that dribbled down my leg still alive and breathing.” I could not say anything, I was chocking and the blow to my stomach was hurting so bad I saw black swirls before my eyes. He was not done and hit me again yelling. “Be that a reminder to you what will happen the day you turn sixteen. It is the day I will kill you.” Again through my haze I saw a red dressed woman and heard Gretel’s voice. “Don’t kill him now, his Grandfather is still alive.” He dropped me and said. “There is tackle to be scrubbed. See to it and you will not eat if one piece is overlooked.” No one spoke of a female assailant. According to Harkun, it was at least seven to eight, swimmers and he was certain they wore Elhir Green. As ridiculous as his story was, as wet suits came in black only, at least on Nilfeheim, it was taken for the truth and no one even asked me anything, What Lothar saw or remembered I did not know but for the last few weeks he made an effort not to come to close to me, and that was a good thing. I still wondered who the woman was. Today was Monday and it was a school day, but again a nightmare had plagued me and I was up way to early. A glance on the PDD told me it was just 12 minutes after two in the morning. I had worked fixing and cleaning tackle and didn’t feel like going into the old pirate den and practice. After an unsuccessful attempt to find sleep, after tossing and turning and seeing my mother’s bloodied boy again. I got up and sneaked down into the equipment chambers of our submarine den. Not even the fishers of our clan were up this early and the Yard master was still snoring in his quarters. A good long swim would clear my mind and so I put on a wet suit and fins and as always grabbed a Tyranno Slayer harpoon gun. Perhaps a Rock shark or Three-Finner would come my way. Bringing home a Three-Finner usually even appeased my father for a while and that is most likely why he had not taken away my wet suit or dive gear. Like all Neo Vikings I had a set of gills, and my eyes had a second set of transparent eyelids that allowed me to see under water. The Bureau of Colonist Affairs had done some genetic tailoring on the Colonists bound for Nilfeheim. While Genetic Tailoring was prohibited now, it was a common practice back in the days of the Second Exodus almost 3000 years ago It was said that we Neo Vikings might eventually loose these traits as diving and hunt swimming was slowly but surely going out of fashion. Very few of my class mates still went hunting or even just swimming anymore; to me there was no greater joy than to go out in the cold clear waters and forget the cares of the surface life. The Ragnarssons Burg had an extensive cave like Submarine Den underneath the western part of our Rock. Was at level with the sea and an enormous portcullis gate made of real off-world Ultronit could be lowered or raised at its entrance. The gate was so heavy that it had to be operated with hydraulics. The clan used to own four New Sweden made Hunt and Fish subs and seven surface fishing vessels. Two subs and three surface vessels had gone with Beowulf and two other warriors that left the clan. The rest currently all neatly tied up. The Olafson clan did not have a single boat when father and the Olafsons came to the Ragnarsson rock. That had not stopped my father to repaint them all in Olafson red and place the Wolf seal upon their bows. However no one dared to say anything and my Grandfather the true master of the Rock was far away acting as the planets representative on Pluribus, the Union government planet. The gate was open, technically there was a standing order to close it every night, but a month ago the hydraulic that opened the gate quit working and it would have taken Off-world Engineers to fix it. Father was never much for maintenance and said that it was a Ragnarsson gate and needed to be fixed by the Ragnarsson clan. He had no problem declaring whatever he wanted as his, but when it needed fixing or maintenance, it was a Ragnarsson problem. I slipped into the water and forced myself to stop breathing and let the gills take over. When the cold water rushed past my gills and I was underwater I felt as right as rain. With powerful stroked of my fins I accelerated myself past the gate and into open water. During Short Summer the Sun was coming up very early and the first rays of light penetrated the upper layers of water. I must have been a good mile away from the Rock when I watched a school of Silver Flickers dash by at first thinking nothing of it, but then a swarm of larger Split Fins followed the Silver Flickers and moments later I saw the sharp triangular nose of a large Rock Shark coming up from the deep. I readied the harpoon. It had three long barrels, each loaded with an explosive tipped rocket propelled steel spears, I was not afraid but Rock Sharks rarely hunted alone. Only, this Rock Shark did not hunt. It was fleeing. There was only one thing in our oceans that made a Rock Shark act this way... The dark, fast growing shadowy mass behind the Rock Shark was without question a Tyranno Fin. To see one this far north at this time of year was quite unusual. The Tyranno Fin shot past me and about 200 meters. It was a Tri Halfer, a fairly sized male. All my thoughts of caution were swept away by the excitement of the hunt. Down here I did not have to pretend, be ashamed for what I was or take whatever punishment my father deemed necessary, down here, I was Eric Olafson., Neo Viking and Hunter. Tyranno Fins could get as large as the biggest Terran Whales, our teacher told us but they were not Mammals but true fish and a terribly aggressive animal at that. Right behind their eyes they had a yellowish patch of skin, it was there where their skulls were attached to the rest of the body and a well placed harpoon could penetrate all the way to their brains. This patch was called the Mark. The Mark was within range, I calmed my nerves and aimed carefully. The harpoon rushed with a streak of bubbles through the water almost to fast to see and struck true! The mighty beast arched in a violent way and trashed its enormous tail fin back and forth, then in a cloud of dark red blood and bubbles it slowly rose to the not so distant surface. Before I could think about my next steps a second shadow approached fast, but not 200 meters distant, instead it was right below me. It was fast and big, much bigger than the other. No matter how fast I could swim. It was made for this environment and was much faster. I was afraid of death but not of dying and if that is how the gods would reunite me with my mother then this was a good way to go. Instead of fleeing swam towards it. A gigantic maw easy able to swallow me and the entire Olafson clan, full of tremendous teeth. I would not give up without a fight, but I did not have enough time to rotate the second barrel into firing position. I don’t know how I survived or where that strange surge came that pulled me away from the maw and let me slide past its side. In all this I noticed an eerie white light deep below, but right now I had no time to turn and look, I rotated the second barrel in place and twisted my own body, just as the Tyranno Fin noticed it had not caught me, and fired, aiming out of reflex and without a heart beat to waste, the Yellow mark was less than 20 meters away. The harpoon missed the yellow mark by at least two meters, while the harpoon still penetrated and exploded. It only wounded the fish. The Tyranno, much bigger than the Tri Halfer, mad with pain circled around, its surge tossing me around unable to orient myself. All I could do is hold on to the harpoon and hope I had another chance, my last one. Again I was certain I saw an eery ghostly light shimmering in the far distant below me, something just a little brighter than the otherwise dark abyss. Somehow I managed to get out of the surge and rotate the third and last barrel in place. I swam as fast as I could to the side, again forcing the Tyranno to turn and there again the Yellow mark, this time the one on the other side. “Odin, let my aim be true!” I prayed and fired. The Ultronit shaft plunges deep into the mark, the fish had made its turn, lined up and opened its maw. The harpoon exploded, the fish was still in motion but hitting me with its snout, instead of swallowing me in its death throe, it felt worst than my fathers kicks and I almost opened my mouth. I would drown as surely as an Off-Worlder if I did and stopped myself the last moment. The eerie light I believed I had seen was gone but then the bright lights of a Hunting sub came from the East just as I surfaced next to the floating Tyrannos. The Sub surfaced as well, on its bow the light blue insignia of a Seagull bird. It was the time honored old clan symbol of the Holmquist clan. Not particular friendly to the Olafsons but not an enemy and friendly towards the Ragnarssons. Two sturdy looking Vikings climbed to the bow and one of them wore the white robes and furs of an elder. Against the wind and the splashing waves he yelled. “Vestu heil ok sæl- Hail the mighty warrior, come aboard and be celebrated!”More men came on deck and then a second boat surfaced. It carrying the three red crosses of the Adolpson clan. It too a mighty and very old member of the Ancient clans. I was helped aboard and I immediately knelt before the Elder and lowered my head as it was custom when facing an Elder. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Rise Mighty One, one as you need not kneel. Are my old eyes deceiving me or are you still but a boy?” The other man wearing a clan chief chain around his neck bellowed. “It is Eric the first born of vile Isegrim, He is Olafson.” Someone held a Drykkjarhorn under my nose.”Drink, as it thy right!” Completely confused by the sudden company of men here out in the ocean I took a drought., It was warm fish blood and tasted vile but given by me in an old Horn was a great honor and to drink a sip from a first kill was as an ancient tradition. Something not shunned in the presence of an Elder. The Holmquist clan Chief grabbed me by the underarm and nodded with a fierce grin under his massive red beard.” Aye Erik of the Olafsons, I bid thee my arm in the greeting of warriors and equals. We hunted that Two Eighty for three days, it is a mighty and cunning bull and we witnessed and saw your hunt. Ages have past since a true warrior has hunted the dangerous prey the ancient way.” The Elder said. “We were certain we saw the Holy fish as well, the White Tyranno in a great distance however. The gods themselves have watched your fight and triumph themselves.” The Holmquists towed my Tyrannos to the Burg, I was certain almost everyone was up now as I saw the crowd waiting, in the center of course the frightening shape of my big father. The Holmquists had used Nilfeheim Radio to call ahead. Instead of elation I feared what my father would do. He did not even look at me as he clasped hands with the other Chiefs and greeted the Elder. “Honored Goði, my Isle is blessed with thy presence. Has this failure I must call my son, caused any problems? I shall of course punish him and lay open his hide.” “Your hatred of your own son has even reached the Elders, your Son has bestowed great honor upon the name Olafson today by slaying two Tyranno Fins I the ancient way. It was witnessed by us and we came to celebrate his deeds. He has earned the right to wear the helmet of the hunt. You do not object to this ancient tradition, Isegrim of the Olafsons?” “How I raise my sons is not the concern of anyone, not even that of the Elders. Lothar is my true heir and this cretin has outlived his usefulness when he turns 16 and inherits. He sneaked out of the burg without my permission and will receive his punishment.” The elder stepped back. “The Elders concern themselves with all matters of tradition as they are our laws. Have you indeed declared Lothar your heir in front of me and clan chiefs? We could declare Eric adult today, after slaying the Tyrannos.” It was clear that Father realized what he was about to do and said. “I will forgo any punishment and allow him to wear the Helmet of the Hunt. He is my first born until Lothar will challenge and kill him.” The Elder gave father a long look. “You realize that all this will reach the ear of Erik Gustav Ragnarsson.” Father gasped and his hand dropped to his whip. “What business is it for elders to gossip to those who hide themselves on other worlds? There is no need to involve his Grandfather. He did well and as expected.” The Adophson clan leader said. “Eric may come to our shores at any time. He will be welcome with highest honors.” The Elder added. “What about the fish? By all Customs and traditions they are his.” I knew I would be beaten to an inch of my life so I said. “I am still Olafson and thus it is my father alone who decides what to do with the fish.” Father seemed appeased and said. “I have business to attend to and tow the Tyrannos to the Xchange. The school floater will be here soon to take him to school.” Category:Stories